


It Was Like This

by alex_wh0



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Bad boy Neil, College AU, Enemies to Lovers, Everybody loves Neil, Fluff, I mean who wouldn't, In a way, M/M, No Angst, Sort Of, You'll see what I mean, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_wh0/pseuds/alex_wh0
Summary: The Enemies to Lovers College AU literally no one asked for.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 42
Kudos: 676





	It Was Like This

_It was like this: Andrew Minyard disliked parties_

“Look at Allison,” Nicky breathed, his gaze honing in on her dancing with someone.

“You are gay, Nicky,” grumbled Aaron from somewhere on the couch, sitting strategically to avoid the weird stains that littered the length of it. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be appreciative,” he sniffed in response, gulping down whatever was in his cup. “Besides, Neil is hotter than god,” he said, yelping a second later when Andrew pinched his arm.

“Less objectifying, more getting drinks for us,” Andrew rasped, voice rough from disuse and a slew of cigarettes he had smoked on the way from their dorm to the party. Nicky whined but got up anyway.

He hated the writhing bodies, the people thronging confined spaces, the thumping bass that throbbed at the base of his skull and the awful drinks only a college party managed to produce. He wished at once for more alcohol and the ability to disappear silently and quietly.

At Aaron’s strangled laugh, he looked at the dance floor – which was really a clearing in the middle of the living room – and caught Neil Josten dipping Allison, their faces alive with laughter, the crowd around them whooping.

He watched as Josten spun Allison around once before they fell into each others’ arms giggling uncontrollably, and looked away, disgust colouring his expression. He patted his pockets for a cigarette, but he found Aaron flicking the lighter before he could do anything.

“What are you, my mother?” Andrew snarled, even as Aaron looked back calmly.

“No. You killed her remember?” he sneered and Andrew sunk back into the cushion, scowling. Talking to Aaron on a good day resembled walking on a path strewn with land mines; it was disastrous when alcohol was involved.

He sighed and scrabbled around his pockets for a sachet of sugar and emptied it into his mouth instead to the horror of his twin and Nicky, who had returned with their drinks.

“Your sweet tooth with kill you before your lungs do,” Nicky commented, wedging himself between the twins, taking a sip from his cup and grimacing at the taste.

“Good. What’s the point in living anyway.”

“Quite morbid for a college party don’t you think,” came a voice from behind them and Andrew stiffened. He’d know that voice anywhere.

“Neil,” Nicky positively shrieked, turning around to look at his offending head of auburn hair, and Andrew scoffed softly.

_It was like this: Andrew Minyard hated Neil Josten_

The way his hair seemed to constantly fall into his eyes, the way he dressed, the way he seemed to be all easygoing confidence until someone stepped past his boundaries, the flash of his eyes that promised danger, his bad boy image, the fact that he seemed to be everywhere Andrew went, the way he had the whole Exy team wrapped around his finger – especially Kevin – when he wasn’t even associated with the sport.

“Dressed like a homeless person, as usual, Josten?” he drawled, taking a moment to linger on Neil’s baggy jeans and unnecessarily tight, faded, long-sleeved shirt that he knew hid more scars. For a wild moment, Andrew was sure imagined the flush on Neil’s cheek that disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Not all of us eat wads of cash for breakfast and drive Maseratis for fun, Minyard,” Neil replied with a cheeky smile, and Andrew had to turn his face away.

He hated Neil Josten, he had a reputation to uphold.

Nicky sighed and pointed an accusing finger at Neil, “So, Allison. Are you working your way through the team now?”

Neil, to Andrew’s satisfaction, turned an alarming shade of red that was discernible even in the half light of the room, but recovered fast. “Yes, sure. That’s what I’m doing,” he smirked.

“Am I next?” Nicky sniffed to Aaron’s eternal disgust, and Neil took a moment before saying “Matt”.

Nicky squawked. Andrew scowled.

Out of nowhere, Kevin materialised by the couch, looking drunk and sweaty, his face lighting up when he spotted Neil. Nobody knew why or how Kevin and Neil got along, especially since the first time they had spoken to each other was when Neil stopped outside the Exy stadium one morning in the middle of his run and had soundly criticised Kevin’s technique in their game the day before, leaving him spluttering incoherently.

They were practically inseparable after that. Neil had somehow become friends with Dan and Allison, and by extension, Matt and Renee. Nicky ogled him at every chance he got, Aaron mostly ignored him, and Andrew was still deeply suspicious of him.

None of them knew why a math major with mysterious scars and a bad boy reputation was friends with the entire Exy team. Well, most of the Exy team.

Now, Neil pulled Kevin back onto the dance floor, both their heads close, cackling at a shared joke.

Andrew’s scowl deepened.

*

_It was like this: Andrew Minyard hated libraries_

Which is why he found himself driving to the coffee shop on the edge of the university campus at 7am, saddled with his laptop and noise cancelling headphones. He had ignored Kevin’s muffled protests and had slammed the door extra hard as he walked out.

He breathed in the cool, crisp air as he stepped out, thinking of nothing and everything all at once, slamming the car door shut, and leaned against it for a minute.

He halted at the entrance of the coffee shop and noticed with undisguised irritation a head of auburn hair bent over a stack of papers. Walking over anyway, he ignored the rest of the empty tables, and pulled back the chair opposite Josten with a loud screech.

Neil looked up at him, not bothering to hide his annoyance, and Andrew felt satisfaction spread through him. He gave him a nasty smirk and sat down heavily, and noticed the mess on the table. There were stacks of papers, two books, a calculator, loose graph sheets, assorted stationery and an empty cup of coffee. He frowned, “Ever heard of this thing called a laptop, Josten? Or technology in general?”

Neil huffed and cleared some space for him. “Ever heard of a library, Minyard? People generally go there to study.” He kept frowning at Andrew. “Also, you do realize that there are nine other empty tables, right?”

Andrew glowered. “I’m aware, Josten.”

Neil pulled a sheaf of papers to himself and looked at Andrew. “If his highness the king of Exy will shut up I have four problem sets to do,” he said, glowering, and Andrew snorted.

“That’s probably Kevin.”

“Nah, he’s the Queen.”

“How are you this coherent anyway? I saw you down at least a bottle of alcohol last night,” Andrew griped, feeling the beginnings of a headache nudge the back of his head. He really didn’t like the sight of the smirk on Josten’s face that meant _been watching me, have you_.

“My alcohol tolerance is very high, Minyard,” he remarked and went back to attacking his problems with a pencil.

Andrew sighed and opened his laptop. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neil pause again. A couple of seconds later, he looked up, looking like he had a question on the tip of his tongue.

Andrew sighed, “What is it?”

Neil narrowed his eyes at him. “How do you know that I am going to ask you something?”

“You’ve got that constipated look Nicky gets every time he wants to ask me something,” he said and watched as Neil threw his head back and laughed.

“It’s not _that_ funny, Josten.”

“It kinda is,” Neil smiled and Andrew had to look away.

“You’re weird.”

Neil cleared his throat. “Anyway, why don’t you like the library?”

Andrew scowled. “What makes you think I don’t?”

Neil merely cocked an eyebrow at him and pointedly looked around the empty café and Andrew sighed. He wanted to make up a story about nerds and allergies but something in Neil’s gaze made Andrew want to be honest and bare himself. The realisation was scarier than the rooftop at night.

That’s because this fall would be potentially devastating, his mind supplied unhelpfully and he shut his eyes in defeat.

“Hey,” Neil’s voice was soft, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Andrew looked at him for a beat. “How about this, Josten. Truth for truth. I’ll tell you why and you give me a truth in return.”

Neil shrugged. “Sure.”

Andrew took a deep breath. “When I was a kid, I thought libraries kept abusers out,” he fidgeted with the sleeve of his black shirt. “Turns out it wasn’t true.”

Neil only gave a non-committal hum in response and for a giddy moment, relief coursed through Andrew. He like that Neil didn’t bother with unnecessary platitudes and took the statement for what it was.

“Your turn,” he said, glancing up at Andrew, his gaze unwavering and strong.

“How come you have high alcohol tolerance?”

Neil gave him a pained smile. “Alcohol numbed the pain when my mom stitched up wounds that my father gave me.” He rubbed his nose against his shoulder and continued, “There were a lot of those. And now, I can drink anyone under the table,” he said with a wry smirk.

“Good to know, Josten.”

“And the same to you, Minyard.”

_It was like this: Andrew Minyard hated surprises but found himself pleasantly surprised anyway_

Because Neil Josten made for a quiet study partner and Andrew caught himself looking at his tousled head more than once. Andrew noted with interest that there was a method to his madness, even as Neil demolished problem after problem methodically.

“What do you need eight pencils for?” Andrew grumbled a minute later, nudging two out of his way, and Neil looked up sheepishly.

“I like pencils,” he sniped, making a valiant attempt at containing his possessions to his side of the table.

Andrew opened his mouth to retort but the barista came up to them with Andrew’s order. Neil’s frazzled expression turned into a look of incredulity as he took in Andrew’s glass. “What the hell is that?”

“A frappe, Josten. Ever heard of those?” he said, stirring once and taking a loud slurp.

Neil grimaced. Andrew’s smirk widened imperceptibly.

“Do you want a refill, Mr. Josten?”

Andrew irritably noticed that the barista was still lingering. Neil looked at her and smiled – slow and easy – and held out his mug to her. “Thanks, Ellie.”

Andrew snorted. “Honestly, Josten.”

“What?” he blinked, and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Does she call you that in bed, too?”

Neil blinked at him again, nonplussed. “What?”

Andrew waved his hand in the general direction of the espresso machine. “Another one of your conquests?”

Neil frowned slightly, as though he didn’t understand, and then a devious smirk stretched his lips. “Jealous, Minyard?”

Andrew scoffed. “As if.”

If Andrew’s cheeks turned slightly pink, Neil did not comment on it. Andrew would have killed him if he had.

He hated Josten, after all.

They worked in silence after that. An hour later, when the sun was fully up, Andrew closed his laptop and left without a backward glance. Belatedly, he realised that he hadn’t touched his headphones.

*

_It was like this: Andrew got nightmares_

They were frequent, intense and devastating. He almost always jolted awake with his t-shirt clinging to sweaty back, neck prickling and skin feeling two sizes too small. He almost always felt under his pillow for his knives. He almost always ended up going to the roof to take the edge off by studying the steep drop to the ground. 

Tonight, a torrential downpour of rain thwarted his plans. He bristled as he took in heavy sheets of rain pounding the window, but got off the bed anyway. He picked up the car keys from the table near the television and walked out of the dorm. Andrew figured that he could drive until he ran out of gas, or till he outstripped the cloying, viscous dread that was filling him up slowly on the inside.

From the parking lot, he observed quiet campus at night, reveling in the feeling that he was probably the only one out and about at this ungodly hour.

_It was like this: Andrew Minyard was proven wrong sometimes, and he hated it_

He watched, now, in disbelief, as a lone figure made its way up the road. Dressed in running shorts and a tank, Neil Josten covered the road with his long strides; the rain plastered his hair to his forehead and sent rivulets of water running down his chin and the hollow of his neck.

Not that Andrew was looking. He was _not_. Fucking Josten had to ruin everything. He got into his car and revved it up, trying not to think of the reasons that would prompt someone to go running in the rain at 2 in the morning.

Andrew stopped outside an all-night convenience store, and absently ran the tips of his fingers along his arms, wanting to feel the weight of his knives, and realised with a sickening jolt that he had left his armbands behind. The vice grip around his chest grew tighter, and he dragged in a painful breath.

Gritting his teeth, he got out anyway, only to find Josten sitting on the steps leading to the store. Neil looked up, startled, and Andrew’s jibe died in his throat. He shuffled to the side to make way for Andrew and rested his forehead on his knees. Against his better judgement, Andrew sat next to him, but Neil did nothing to acknowledge him.

Stripped of the smokescreen of sarcasm that fuelled the vicious barbs that they regularly threw at each other, Andrew and Neil remained strangely quiet, neither capable of mustering up the energy required to snipe at each other.

Andrew lit a cigarette and put it to his lips and took a long, slow drag. Neil briefly looked up and Andrew lit him one, watching with interest as he cupped it in the palm of his hand and took in deep lungfuls of smoke.

“That’s a waste of nicotine, Josten,” he murmured, keeping his forearms folded tightly against his midriff.

“I don’t actually like the smoke.”

“Then why do you inhale it like a dying man?”

Neil shot him an inscrutable look, as though he was weighing the pros and cons of giving an honest answer. “Truth for truth,” he asked eventually, and Andrew nodded.

“My mother smoked a lot. The smell reminds me of her.”

“Is she the reason you’re out on a run at ass o clock?”

Neil sniggered and then sobered up instantly. “What makes you think that?”

“No one goes on a leisurely run when it’s pouring like apocalypse is next week.”

“No one goes on leisurely drives at ass o clock, either,” he replied, and Andrew’s eyebrows went up.

“All you have to do is ask, Josten.”

Neil huffed. “Fine. Why are you up?”

“That’s none of your business,” Andrew retorted smugly, flicking ash on to concrete.

“Truth for truth.”

“Fine. I had a nightmare.”

“Who doesn’t,” grumbled Neil, pillowing his head on his arms, and looked at Andrew out of the corner of his eyes. “I dreamt my father cut off my legs. He once threatened to,” he exhaled slowly. “I needed to feel my legs.”

Andrew merely looked at Neil in response, his gaze offering more comfort than his words ever could.

_It was like this: Andrew didn’t know silences could be peaceful_

He marveled at it now, to himself, rather quietly. For the better part of an hour, he had been sitting side by side with Josten, smoking and relishing the retreat of his demons.

Neil eventually turned to him, eyes flashing in the dim light pouring out of the store windows. “Truth for truth.”

Andrew grunted.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Andrew fumbled with his lighter. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Andrew,” Neil huffed.

Not Minyard. _Andrew_.

“I don’t trust you, Josten,” he offered quietly, expecting Neil to lash out or complain.

Neil shrugged, “Fair enough.”

Andrew glanced at him. “That’s it?”

Neil looked at him, bemused, “Yeah. Why?”

Andrew only shook his head in response, well aware that his words clashed horribly with his bare forearms and his willingness to keep them that way – at least for the time being.

“It’s your turn,” Neil said and Andrew scuffed his shoes.

“Are you seeing someone?”

He turned sideways to see Neil gaping at him.

“What?” he asked, tone more amused than it had any right to be.

Neil shook his head, as if to dislodge a particularly annoying fly. “No.” And then, “I don’t understand why everyone assumes I’m sleeping my way around the college.”

Andrew smirked, “Aren’t you?”

Neil scoffed and then stayed quiet.

“What is it?” Andrew prompted from around his fourth cigarette.

Neil looked Andrew straight in the eye and said, “I don’t swing.”

_It was like this: There were very few moments where Andrew found himself struck dumb_

This was one of those.

*

The dorms resembled a hurricane. Everyone was leaving for someone’s party – again. Andrew lounged on the couch upside down, his legs draped on the backrest haphazardly as he considered getting pizza.

“How’s my favourite Minyard doing?” came a voice from the entryway that Andrew would recognise anywhere. Andrew lolled his head and summoned the most disgruntled look he could muster.

“You.” Even upside down, Neil looked good. It was an infuriating thought.

“Me,” he calmly responded and sat next to him on the couch.

“I’m not your favourite.”

Neil scoffed. “Of course not. I was talking to Aaron.”

“No you weren’t,” Aaron’s voice came from somewhere near the kitchen.

“No you weren’t,” Andrew smirked at him, tracking the faint blush on his scarred cheeks.

He wouldn’t say that he hated Neil any less after that night in the rain, but something had shifted. Neil sought him out in the campus on most days, giving him the weirdest things he found in his bag or pocket. Andrew’s expression every time it happened was a source of constant amusement to his teammates. He hated it. He also noted bemusedly that Neil never hung around long enough for Andrew to get truly annoyed. For that, Andrew hated himself.

“What are you doing here, Josten?”

“I’m taking Dan to the party.”

“Does her boyfriend know?” Andrew griped and Neil smirked.

“He is coming too.”

Andrew wanted to say something lewd and suggestive, but Neil’s words from _that_ night came back to him. He nudged Neil’s thigh with his elbow, “Truth for truth, Josten.”

Neil huffed out a dramatic sigh. “For you, Andrew, anything.”

Andrew raised one eyebrow and Neil smirked down at him.

“Both of you have to stop this weird flirting you’re doing,” Aaron said, his mulish expression coming into view, and both of them startled, shifting away from each other on the couch.

“We’re not flirting,” Neil said even as Andrew said “Shut up, Aaron.”

Aaron shrugged and left the room, saying something that sounded suspiciously like “weirdos”.

“He’s the weird one,” Neil grumbled and Andrew raised an eyebrow at that.

“Thought he was your favourite Minyard.”

Neil smirked, “He is.”

Andrew scowled. “What do you want, Josten?”

“Actually, you wanted something.”

Oh. Andrew cleared his throat. “You know you have this reputation.” Neil frowned and looked at Andrew. “What do you mean?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. At this rate, they would fall out at some point and then Andrew could sue Neil. He almost smiled at the thought.

“Seriously, Josten?”

“What?”

“People think you’re some kind of bad boy sex god whose one ambition is to seduce everyone in the vicinity.”

Neil blushed. “Do you think that?”

“Don’t evade the question.”

“I’m not,” Neil yelped and Andrew covered his ears.

“Sorry,” Neil grinned sheepishly. “Seriously is that what people think?”

“Yes,” Andrew said, manoeuvering himself to a position more uncomfortable than the previous one.

Neil looked at him dubiously, “People are weird.”

Andrew grunted.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“No. I wanted to ask you why you never bother correcting anyone.”

Neil scowled. It was a good look on him. Andrew hated it.

“I don’t see the point in engaging in that kind of conversation or setting things right. People are weird.”

Andrew sighed and clasped his fingers together. “Fine. Your turn.”

Neil flicked him a glance, “Do you still hate me?”

“Are you seriously wasting your question on that?”

“Hey, I’ll ask whatever I want.”

“Loser.”

“So?”

Andrew sighed. “Won’t say,” he said eventually, squinting at the ceiling, carefully avoiding looking at Neil. He knew he’d be wearing a smirk on his stupidly attractive face.

“You’re a sap, Minyard,” Neil said cheerfully, prodding Andrew’s hands and Andrew glared at him.

“Shut up, Josten.”

Neil snickered, lifting one of Andrew’s hands up, eyebrow raised in a silent question. Andrew felt the back of his neck prickle, and goosebumps erupted along his forearms. He nodded minutely, somehow trusting Neil.

Neil pressed his lips to Andrew’s knuckles briefly and dropped his hand.

Dan took that moment to appear, effectively cutting through Andrew’s shock. She beckoned to Neil and walked away, yelling into her phone.

Neil stood up, rooting around his pocket and dropped a piece of string on Andrew’s chest, sneaking a look at him. “If I get bored, you’ll come rescue me, won’t you?”

Andrew stared back at him, hoping his emotions weren’t splayed out on his face. “Absolutely not.” The spot on his hand burned. 

_It was like this: Andrew couldn’t get Neil’s laughter out of his head for the next four hours_

*

_It was like this: Andrew was afraid of falling_

He used to go up to the rooftop to dangle his feet off the ledge because he felt the knife edge of fear in the pit of his stomach, slicing through the fog in his head. Now, it had been months since he had ventured up there. He had found different rooftops.

Now, Andrew looked at Neil from across the room, expression skeptical. “What?”

“I said, how come you never ask me about my scars?”

Neil was perched on the desk, the sunlight turning his messy hair into a halo of burnished copper. Andrew blinked.

“The truths. You never ask me about my scars,” Neil explained, his tone indecipherable.

“Do you want me to?” Andrew frowned from his seat on the couch. They were hanging out in Neil’s dorm room, which was happening more often than usual, something Andrew refused to acknowledge.

“No,” Neil shook his head. “I’m just curious.”

Andrew scoffed. “I know my boundaries, Neil.”

 _Neil_ , not Josten.

_It was like this: Andrew was afraid of the truth in all its forms_

But he stared it down anyway, unflinchingly.

Neil nodded at him from across the room. “Thank you.”

Andrew snorted. “For being a decent person?”

Neil looked up, expression more worried than it should be, and Andrew sighed. All this time spent in the company of the one person he claimed to hate meant that he knew the tics and quirks that essentially made them what they were. Right now, he knew Neil was worried.

Hopping off his perch, he moved toward Neil, who automatically spread his legs open so that Andrew could stand in his space. Andrew refused to focus on that. He raised his hand in a silent question, and Neil looked at it for a second, gaze lingering on the ratty red thread entwined around Andrew’s left wrist, and nodded.

Andrew rested his palm against Neil’s neck and rubbed his thumb in slow circles. “What is this really about, Neil?”

“I can’t tell you, you hate me,” Neil looked away from him and scrutinised a stretch of wall behind Andrew intently.

_It was like this: Andrew was a liar, but sometimes he preferred the truth_

“Neil,” he said quietly, tugging at his neck till Neil turned his full attention on him. Andrew gulped. “Both you and I know that I don’t really hate you. Haven’t in a long time.” Some part of Andrew – the part that had disliked Neil with everything he had – spluttered in disbelief, but he tamped it down efficiently.

Neil sniffled slightly and looked down at his fingers. Andrew took his hand into his and traced the burn marks on his knuckles. “And you tell me about yourself and your scars when you want to, _if_ you want to.”

Neil’s fingers tightened against his as he looked at him again. “Andrew.”

Andrew hummed in response.

“Can I kiss you?”

Andrew startled, like he hadn’t thought of asking Neil the same thing ever since that night outside the convenience store.

“I thought you didn’t swing,” he bit out, relief and hope twined tight around his chest.

“Only for you,” Neil whispered, looking at him and Andrew was powerless.

“Yes,” he breathed against Neil’s cheek, and turned his face, bringing their lips together. He felt Neil smile against his lips, so he tilted his head and licked at Neil’s lower lip, gently biting on it until Neil opened up for him, moaning when their tongues collided in a languid suck.

They kissed urgently and softly, gripping at each other like they had nothing else to hold on to, like they needed something to hold on to; a body to shore up their want against.

Neil pulled back after a while, eyes blown wide in lust, hair sticking up every which way and looked at Andrew in wonder. His hands, Andrew noted with interest and resentment, hadn’t strayed from his shoulders. “Stop looking at me like that,” he pointedly pushed at Neil’s cheek with his finger until Neil laughed and looked out the window instead.

“Hey, Andrew.”

“Hmm.”

“I lied the other day.”

Andrew looked at him, confused. “What?”

“You are my favourite Minyard.”

Desperately pushing down the warmth bubbling up inside him Andrew grumbled, “I hate you, Josten.”

_It was like this: Andrew fell_

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, it was *sort of* Enemies to Lovers x
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://alex-wh0.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alex_wh0). Come say hi


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